Buzz, buzz, buzz.

Snooze.

Buzz, buzz, buzz.

Kam groaned as he reached blindly for his cellphone again, shuffling under the pillow where he had shoved it the first three times the alarm had gone off. It was so persistent and furthermore, he didn't even realize he'd set an alarm in the first place. One lazy eye opened as he stared blearily at the screen:

Incoming: Sana Zharkov

Phone call, not alarm.

With a sigh that simply said I would rather be sleeping, Kam rolled onto his back and hit the accept button with a swipe of his thumb. The phone was barely to his ear when the low, sultry voice poured through the line.

“It's about time you woke up. I bet you forgot.”

The still half asleep man was moved to silence as he tried to remember what he'd forgotten without giving away that he'd actually forgotten it at all. It was effective in drawing him out of the sleep haze he was still fighting, kind of. His brows knit and after a moment, there was a soft, breathy laugh through the line that sent chills crawling across his skin.

“You did. I knew you would.”

“I didn't,” he countered, unsure. He definitely had, whatever it was.

“I'll be there in twenty. Don't hurt yourself trying to figure it out.”

The line went silent without so much as a goodbye and Kam let his hand drop to the bed, phone still clutched in his fingers. If he wasn't in trouble for not remembering, that was fine by him. His only decision to make now was whether he could sleep the whole twenty minutes or if he should get up and take a shower. He let his phone go and raised his arm up, tilting his head for a quick sniff test.

He grimaced. Definitely shower.

The burly man pushed himself up onto his feet with a groan, then paused to stretch his arms over his head until his right shoulder popped. He lowered it, slowly, with a satisfied sigh and lumbered out of the room toward the bathroom across the hall, snagging a pair of boxers out of the open drawer of his dresser as he passed. Luckily for him, he wasn't a girl, which meant his showers didn't take anywhere close to twenty minutes. As he was jumping in under the scalding water, his brain was calculating how much time he was going to have for a catnap before she showed up. If he was fast, he might get five or ten minutes.

When he finally stepped out and toweled off, he was listening for any signs that she had let herself in – which she usually did. The whole apartment was quiet which meant Delphine wasn't awake and Sana wasn't there yet.

Sweet, sweet cat naps.

Kamboja had pulled on his boxers and crossed back into his room in record time. Almost as an afterthought, he pulled on a pair of gym shorts and flopped back onto his bed in the same swift motion, laying right where he fell. Like only the laziest of men can do, he closed his eyes and was drifting into dreamland in no time, sprawled on his bed with damp dreads leaving snail trails across his pillow case.

Dozed off into a peaceful darkness, he was unaware of how much time was slipping by. The first thing that told him his visitor had arrived was the backbeat that drummed into his subconscious, drawing him out of the comfortable nothingness he had been suspended in. He let his eyes drift open slowly without a word, landing on the platinum blonde where she was swaying to the tune of Mac Miller pouring through his speakers.

Said baby I got missed calls and e-mails, all going into details 'bout how you used to love me. I keep changing like the leaves, hell. Go, go. You'll be fine on your own, own..

Sana's head of perfect curls turned to glance at him over one shoulder, letting her glossy lips curl into a smile as she lip-synced with the song he knew she loved. She always made him stop talking when it came through her Pandora station. Her phone was abandoned where it lay on his desk as she began to crawl up the end of the bed and along the length of his body. The tips of her fingers trailed up his leg, then over his stomach and chest, dancing along to the beat as she began sing-songing the words out to him just above the rapper's voice.

“You an a*****e, superficial douche bag. Wishing that you knew that, you could have these shoes back - all of this perfume back, necklaces and jewels back. All the s**t you buy me,” she paused over a couple of words in the song as she drew face-to-face with him, forcing him to stare up into rich, mahogany eyes. Her thumb brushed gently over his lips at the same time that she leaned down, breathing the last of the chorus against his skin, “I want you back.”

Beneath the curtains of Sana's hair, Kam gave her his best smile. Strong, dark hands trailed up her bronzy legs where they were draped on either side of his stomach, then settled along her waist with the thumbs tucked into the belt loops of her shorts. Before she could say another word he crushed his lips into hers and pulled her body down into his, content to forget about whatever she had come here to make him remember. When she responded with a pleased hum against his lips, he took it as his cue to sit up. Just as he was about to flip her over into the sheets and trap her, the song in the background cut out and was immediately replaced with an annoying trill.

“Oh, oh, let go!” Bedazzled fingers were beating at his hands as she pried herself from his grip and stumbled out of the bed toward the desk once more. She scooped her phone up, unplugged the wire that connected it to his speakers, and answered it after a swift glance at the screen.

Kam sighed, then flopped back into his bed with annoyance. Her voice filled the room and he listened while giving her a dramatic, sullen stare.

“Of coure we're still coming, Reggie. We'll be there in time, don't cancel the appointment.” With her phone balanced between her shoulder and ear, she reached out and slid her purse closer. After a second of rummaging and encouraging Reggie, she produced a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. One end of a cigarette was plopped between her glossy lips before she lit it with a pro's quick grace. Both things were deposited back in her purse before she took a long draw. Her face lit up as the smoke filled her lungs, like she had forgotten up until that moment how horrible life was without nicotine.

“See you soon,” her words poured smoke into the room, though Kam said nothing. The smell of it was enough to set his own skin tingling but he was too lazy to get up and find his own pack, or steal one from her. Not that Sana was about to give him much choice – he suddenly knew exactly what they were supposed to be doing today.

“Get up and put on something presentable, dreadhead.” She drew another long drag from her cigarette, then tapped the ash off into a half-empty soda can he had sitting on his desk. The look on her face said she wasn't joking and even if he would have normally pushed his luck and tried to get more sleep, he kind of wanted to get this done today. He also really didn't like dealing with her when she was being a moody brat.

“Fiine,” he groaned out, but rolled out of bed anyway. Once he was on his feet, she held out the end of her gloss-stained cigarette to him, balanced carefully between her pointer and middle finger. He stooped down long enough to draw one deep breath, immediately relieved by the feel of smoke pouring into his lungs. The familiar sting was comforting, even if the sticky filter made him grimace as he pulled away. “I hate lipgloss seconds,” he mumbled, letting smoke tumble from his lips with the words. If she cared, she didn't show it, but instead just shrugged and pointed at the ajar closet door. She had plopped the cigarette back between her lips and looked down at her phone before he'd ever reached it.

By the time they were walking out of the apartment, she had finished her cigarette. The light poured through the parted blinds in a haze from the lingering smoke and the stench was unmistakable – Delphine would probably have something to say about smoking inside when he got home. <******** it.

He pulled the door shut and readjusted the beanie over his half-up deads, then swung an arm lazily across Sana's shoulders as the pair descended the stairs together. Sana's car was waiting on the street in a parallel space, parked with precision, though she had left the top down like she often did. No matter how many times he told her she was going to get robbed, she never seemed to care. That was Sana – defiant to the end. Maybe she just didn't care about anything she'd left inside, though he guessed it was probably because she always assumed no one would dare bother her.

She dislodged herself from his arm and crossed around to the driver's door, stepping into the car with one long leg. The seat had been adjusted to account for the wedge heels of her sneakers and she slipped in with ease, waiting for him to crawl into the passenger seat before she cranked the engine to life. It roared and she smiled, every time. In the time that he'd known her, he'd come to understand one thing above all others: Sana liked to feel powerful. As she shifted gears and pulled out onto the road, he adjusted his beanie one last time to make sure it wouldn't fly off and leave his dreads whipping in the wind.

It was a short fifteen minute drive with Sana whipping in and out of traffic, cursing at stop lights and cutting down back roads to avoid the worst of the midday congestion. When they pulled up to a stop in front of the salon, Kam took a moment to sit there, staring up at the sign: Curl up & Dye. The outside of the salon was covered in graffiti that he swore never looked the same twice, but it was part of the appeal. His companion was already out of the car and stalking toward a dark skinned woman with a shining, bald head. Long thick, white lashes and vibrant pink makeup stood out against her ebony skin.

Reggie, if he had to guess.

He pulled himself up in the seat and propelled over the car door with ease, landing with a thud on the pavement. When he stopped at Sana's side, Reggie reached up and pulled the beanie off of his head without invitation. Whatever she saw made her purse her lips and sigh, as if she were deeply disappointed in someone she had never even met.

“You haven't been taking care of them,” she held the beanie out to Sana expectantly, who took it and shoved it into her purse without question, “but I have an idea. Take your toosh inside, boy.”

Kamboja opened his mouth to protest but stopped as her brow rose, laughing and shaking his head instead as he passed the threshold. When had he surrounded himself with such bossy women?

Whatever he thought about her at first impression only got worse as the day wore on. She was meticulous about her work and a no-nonsense kind of woman. It was evident that even Sana deferred to her opinion, which was a feat in and of itself. Sana deferred to almost no one. By the time they were done, he wanted both a beer and a cigarette, but both women seemed pleased with the grueling process.

After he'd forked over his debit card to process the fee, he rummaged through Sana's purse and grabbed both his beanie and her cigarettes. The first was tucked into the hem of his jeans at the small of his back and the second was open before the 'ding' of the salon door bell alerted them that he had stepped outside. Sana didn't hurry to follow him and he didn't really care. He pulled a slender cigarette from the package and fished out the lighter she always kept with them, leaning back against the graffiti wall as he lit it. The cigarette was balanced between his lips just long enough to put the lighter back and shove the entire package into his pants. Then he sighed, drew a deep breath, and looked up at the sky as the smoke rose in lazy curls above his head.

The ding of the salon bell told him when Sana had joined him, halfway through the cigarette. Her delicate hand reached into his pocket without a word, rummaging around until he settled his eyes on her with a smirk.

“You could just ask,” his voice was a tease, but cut short as she responded.

“Sorry, I don't ask. I just take what I want.” She had her cigarettes in her hand and was on her way to lighting one, speaking around the butt. When it flared to life, she put them back in her purse, and studied him. “If you put that beanie back on, I'll burn it.”

He laughed, then coughed, but shook his head at her defiantly even if his words escaped him in a mouthful of smoke. Unlike most people, Sana didn't ask him if he liked what had been done. She didn't care about his opinion, she was the one that had to stare at him. She stepped so close to him that her knee brushed the inside of his, then reached up with a free hand to stroke her fingers along the shaved-down sides of his head. The caress sent shivers down his spine, bringing an amused smile to her lips and encouraging her to keep invading his space. Those gentle fingers drifted up to the thick, freshly-dyed dreads that had been clipped like a mane down the center of his head and followed one to the tip. They were darker, close to his natural color, and faded into a rich caramel at the ends. It was much more natural and, apparently, more appealing if her sultry look was any indication.

“She's so good,” Sana sighed through cigarette breath and let her hand fall to clutch his chin. She leaned in and pressed a hard kiss against his lips, then turned on her heel back to the car. He tossed his cigarette on the ground, ground it out with the heel of his boot, and followed her without question.

“Let's go get ready.”

He never had to ask for what? with Sana – life didn't start for them until the sun went down.